see"--his voice mounted to a cry--"The old picture at the foot of the
bed...the picture with the wicked people burning in it...has opened like
a door...the light is shining through it...and now a lady steps out from
the wall behind the picture...oh, so beautiful...she has yellow hair, as
yellow as my mother's...but longer...oh, much longer...she carries a
rose in her hand...and there are white doves flying about her
shoulders...she is naked, quite naked, poor lady! but she does not seem
to mind...she seems to be laughing about it...and your Highness..."

The Duke started up violently. "Enough--enough!" he stammered. "The
fever is on the child...this agitation is...most pernicious...Cover the
crystal, I say!"

He sank back, his forehead damp with perspiration. In an instant the
crystal had been removed, and Prince Ferrante carried back to his
mother's side. The boy seemed in nowise affected by his father's
commotion. His eyes burned with excitement, and he sat up eagerly, as
though not to miss a detail of what was going forward. Maria Clementina
leaned over and clasped his hand, but he hardly noticed her. "I want to
see some more beautiful things!" he insisted.

The Duke sat speechless, a fallen heap in his chair, and the courtiers
looked at each other, their faces shifting spectrally in the faint
light, like phantom travellers waiting to be ferried across some
mysterious river. At length Heiligenstern advanced and with every mark
of deference addressed himself to the Duke.

"Your Highness," said he quietly, "need be under no apprehension as to
the effect produced upon the prince. The magic crystal, as your Highness
is aware, is under the protection of the blessed spirits, and its